“No—nor have civil wars been the custom—nor have any of the family had to face going to live in a strange country!” Mrs. Stewart burst out wrathfully. “Here it wouldn’t so much matter if we were poor, because every one else will be poor too, and they all know we’re Mays. But how do I know the Mexicans ever heard of Wilkes County? I am simply obliged to have money enough to keep up appearances. And besides, what’s the odds what I do with these negroes of ours? The war will set them free sooner or later. It’s a sort of a Yankee trick, but I think I’m rather clever to find any one to buy them. I didn’t believe I could, till I heard of this man from Macon.” The cleverness of the bargain was not all that was interesting Mrs. May. “Suppose, as you say, the war ends and the slaves are freed,” she said genially; “don’t you realize that families once separated may never meet again?” “When they’re free they’ll have to learn to look out for themselves. And if I wanted to, I couldn’t get the boys back now,” Mrs. Stewart replied ungraciously. “This man who bought them wasn’t a gentleman, you understand. He bought them because they were good mechanics. Moreover, I don’t know where he has sent them. It may be he is going to sell their labor.” “Cora!” Mrs. May cried, “I am certain Charles never meant you to dispose of your people.” “Don’t let’s argue it, Parthenia,” Mrs. Stewart retorted, summoning all her dignity to bolster an uneasy conscience. “I must be the judge of what my husband desires, and whatever I may feel personally I put aside when I remember my daughter. I was given full power to do as I thought best and I have used it.” Mrs. May rose to leave. “I came here,” she said, with studied restraint, “because of what I believed to be a mistake. Now I am afraid to ask you another question—but can it be that you propose to separate Aunt Dilsey and Sam?” Mrs. Stewart had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. “I am hoping to sell Aunt Dilsey with Sam,” she answered. “You know she’s getting on in years—but for all that she’s a wonderful cook, and I told the man from Macon—” A spot of red appeared in each of Mrs. May’s cheeks. “That is all I wished to know,” she interrupted abruptly. “Aunt Dilsey and Sam are at my house, and there they shall stay. Henry, at least, would never forgive me the shame of it if that faithful old soul was sold to strangers in her advanced age. We can ill-afford to take more mouths to feed, not to speak of paying for them; but let me know the price you propose to ask and I will see that the money reaches you.” Mrs. Stewart beamed upon her sister-in-law.